3. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. He displayed a quite unprofessional vein of mysticism in the matter. I have no intention of arresting you. A nine days’ wonder is soon forgotten.
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